Darkness Without
by Femvamp
Summary: Brooke Thompson stumbles out of Camp Redwood into the Hotel Cortez. Figure this takes place after AHS 1984 ends but before AHS Hotel begins. *Now Complete*
1. Chapter 1

Brooke Thompson stumbled out of the hospital trying not to draw attention to herself. She had so far been lucky and no one had asked too many questions. They were more concerned with the knife wound in her belly then her name and address but it was only a matter of time.

Brooke knew she needed to find a place to lay low for awhile. One of the TVs in the hall she had passed had the news on and one of the newscasters had talked about "Brooke Thompson" sightings at the suddenly cancelled music event thrown by Margaret Booth but the same newscaster was laughing it off as ghost stories. She was just shy of out earshot when she heard the newscaster mention that Margaret Booth and her husband had disappeared.

Brooke got a few blocks away from the hospital when she realized she had no money or real plan. When she had been traveling with Donna they had always planned on picking up fake ids from one of Donna's people and then just disappearing to the edge of the world. Now however Brooke was on her own. She knew she could search out Donna who she was pretty sure was still alive but something stopped her.

Brooke was about ready to pass out again when she saw an old decrepit hotel in the distance. It was one of the hotels she would have never stopped in before. Before the nightmare her life had become. Now however she didn't think twice. Or maybe a third time.

Brooke passed through the door and into the larger then she expected hallway...

"Can I help..."

Brooke looked over at a bald man in what appeared to be a dress and turned to him and stumbled but was caught by a woman who she hadn't seen before, "Magnificent." Brooke looked into her eyes and saw something she hadn't seen since Montana had looked at her. It was both a hunger and something else that really worried her. "You are beautiful. Why do you hide your darkness?" Brooke tried to look away from the woman but she was both holding her up and staring straight into her eyes. "You're darkness is right there simmering below the surface but you deny it."

"I'm not..." Brooke tried to speak but she was so tired.

"The poor woman is about to pass out." Brooke saw the man in a dress rush over to her and carefully take her out of the woman's dark embrace, "Why don't I have her rest in one of the empty rooms?"

"Of course" The woman nodded and walked away like she was already bored. "Liz, you make sure to let me know when she is better."

"Of course countess."

Brooke tried to keep track of the conversation. She knew something important was going on. Years spent in prison cells had honed her sense of danger and something about this hotel was setting off all her warning bells but before she could say or do anything her legs gave out from under her.  
—-

Hazel Evers hummed a happy tune as she washed the clothes that had carefully been removed from the new girl. The girl had passed out cold soon after and hadn't woken up since. The blood had begun to seep through her bandages. The Laundress was pretty sure the poor girl would have passed out dead if she had ended up anywhere other then the Cortez.

The hotel was abuzz with the girl. Ghosts and vampires alike where curious who she was. Mr. March was even waiting for her to wake up sensing a darkness inside of her himself. Someone who could complete his masterpiece.

"An innocent face that hides bubbling anger and darkness. Like a tea kettle boiling water."

"She is mine James." The Countess said as they watched the girl sleep. "I saw her first."

"To do what with? Turn her into one of your tainted lovers?" March smiled at his wife, "I haven't seen Ramona around, have you gotten bored of her already?" March smiled again, "You will waste her gifts my love."

"And if I let you have her?"

"We can forget our next dinner appointment."

"Our next two."

"Agreed."

"She means that much to you?" The Countess looked at her husband for a second, "Why?"

"Because her darkness is just below the surface. Even with the murders she has already committed she has only tasted what she can become. She is all anger and remorse. If I remove the remorse she could be a work of art."

"You are assuming she agrees."

"I can be very persuasive as you well know." March turned to Hazel Evers like he just noticed she was in the room, "Make sure she has everything she needs. When she is ready bring her to me."

"Of course sir."

With that Hazel Evers went back to her work cleaning the blood out of the young girls cloths. And hummed to herself as she thought about cleaning the blood certainly on the sheets.


	2. Chapter 2

Brooke Thompson woke up in darkness. At first she thought she was back in her cell in prison. That she had just dreamed escaping. That she was still scheduled to be executed in a few days. Brooke dug herself deeper into her covers. It was only then did she realize that she was in a real bed with real clothing and not prison issued ones.

Brooke slowly got out of her definitely not prison cot and looked around her room. It was sparsely decorated but nice looking. Like a hotel. Like the hotel she stumbled into after she had walked out of the hospital...how many days ago?

Brooke entered the bathroom and saw a large tub with a shower attached to it. It looked beautiful and decadent. It has been such a long time since she actually took a long shower. Even in the motel room with Donna her showers had been quick. Brooke was still staring at the tub when she heard humming coming from her bedroom.

"Oh dear me. The sheets will need to be cleaned throughly" Brooke stood by the door ready to make a move but said nothing as the strange woman moved around the room seemingly not noticing her until she looked up, "oh my. You must be starving. Mr. March wanted me to make sure you had food when you woke up after your ordeal."

"Ordeal?"

"Yes yes" the strange woman nodded, "You came in close to death. A knife wound in your belly. It took me forever to get the blood out of your clothing."

"Yes about that." Brooke paused wanting to know who removed her clothing but not sure how to ask.

"Oh don't worry my dear. I helped you get out if those filthy clothes." The woman paused again and produced a cart of food that Brooke hadn't noticed. "Only the best for one of Mr. March's guests. Don't you worry. We will get you back to what you do best." The woman giggled under her breath, "Mr. March is soooo looking forward to meeting you. A girl no less. " the woman shook her head and without warning removed the sheets off Brooke's bed and before she could say anything was already at the door ready to leave, "If you need anything I am around. Otherwise ask Liz the poof in the lobby."

"Poof?" Brooke asked finally finding the words to speak.

"The man in the dress. Nice enough fellow but in my day..." The woman shook her head again. "My name is Hazel Evers but everyone calls me The Laundress."

With that she was gone. Brooke had a sudden urge to just leave the hotel. It wasn't like she had anything to take with her. From what this laundress lady said she was pretty sure whoever Mr. March was he knew who she was. Brooke needed to get out as soon as she could.

But the food smelled really good.

And she was really hungry.

"I'll eat and I'll shower. Then I'll leave." Brooke whispered to herself.

—-/-/—-/—

* * *

"I see our guest has woken up."

"Yes. Yes." James Patrick March smiled happily at his wife. "This is going to be so much fun."

"She will never do it." The Countess stared out an open window at the world outside. A world neither of them would truly be a part of, "I've spoken with some...friends who say she didn't actually kill those people. She isn't the person you think she is."

"But don't you see my love, that makes her even more perfect. She was being executed for eleven murders she didn't commit. What rage. What vengeance. She is better then I could have dreamed."

"She's an innocent."

"Already corrupted by the guilty." James paused, "All she needs is one more push and she will finish my killings and thank me for it."

The Countess didn't say anything she just looked back out the window. James wasn't wrong. She had sensed the darkness in the girl as well. It was bubbling inside of her waiting to get out. But the girl was strong. She had a light inside of her as well. A light that years of darkness hadn't doused.

The Countess wondered which was stronger.

"This is going to be so much fun."


	3. Chapter 3

Against her better judgment Brooke agreed to have dinner with James Patrick March. She hadn't left the hotel since she had stumbled through who knows how long ago? Everyone seemed to know exactly who she was and no one seemed to care. Brooke had the impression that all the permanent residents of the hotel had their own reasons fir being there. She briefly considered that she had wandered into a serial killer hideout. But that was just silly.

Wasn't it?

Days seemed to bleed into each other here and Brooke quickly found herself losing track of time. She had no reason to leave. All her needs were being met. The strange occupants of the hotel slowly began to become normal to Brooke.

So when she got a formal invitation to have dinner with James Patrick March one of the owners of the hotel Brooke didn't feel it was her place to say no. She was still not sure if the regular occupants knew that she was actually innocent of the murders that put her on death row or not. She wasn't sure if they would care.

Brooke knocked on March's door at a little before six and was quickly ushered in by the always friendly Laundress. "Mr. March will be with you shortly. Would you like a drink? "

"Ahh Ms Evers I see our guest has arrived. Why don't you bring us some libations and leave us to talk." A strange but happy looking man sauntered into the room, "Ms Thompson and I have much to discuss."

Brooke watched Hazel Evers happily bounce around the room and then hand her a drink of some kind without telling her what it was. Brooke figured it was some kind of alcohol and was nervous to drink it. Her instincts had gone off like bells when James March had entered the room. She was half tempted to put the drink down but instead took a big sip and smiled at him.

"Good Good." March smiled happily, "I want to hear about this murder camp of yours."

Brooke suddenly got nervous and took a step toward the door. Her suspicions that the residents of the hotel knew who she was had been confirmed. "I'm not. I didn't" Brooke paused.

Brooke began to feel woozy. The room around her began to have a strange feel to it. She heard the air around heard she actually heard the air.

"I can see why they thought you killed those people." March said simply "impressive work. Whoever did this had skills. It just wasn't you was it? Well except for the last girl."

"How?"

"Oh I didn't mean to offend you." March smiled at Brooke. "Your kill had a great deal of potential as well. Plus I am guessing you survived whoever it was killing people that night. My guess is Margaret Booth. Who just happened to disappear right before you wandered Into our little hotel with a stab wound in your stomach." March paused as he walked closer to Brooke so close that she could smell his breath, "Did you kill Margaret Booth?"

Brooke backed away from March and took another big gulp of her drink. Even though she was pretty sure it was drugged or something funky.

"She deserved it you know. After what she did to you."

__I cannot be seen  
cannot be felt __

Brooke felt herself back at the camp. Margaret was here. Everything inside of her was telling her she had to find Margaret Booth and make her pay.

"All those years you spent in prison was because of her. They put you on death row. Eleven murders. Eleven. Was the cell dark? Was it cold? It should have been her. "

__cannot be heard  
cannot be smelt __

Brooke felt the darkness and anger bubble up inside of her. The whispers all around her taunted and laughed. Brooke closed her eyes and tried to breathe. Try to remember what Donna told her. It was her choice. Who she became was her choice.

But was it really? Brooke saw Margaret standing in front of her. Margaret Booth started to laugh at her. Laugh that Brooke would be executed for her crimes. Brooke felt the anger inside of her boil up beyond control and before she knew it she had a knife in her hand and was lunging at the woman she hated more then anything.

"Good job my girl." March clapped cheerfully.

__I lie behind stars and under hills.  
and empty holes I fill __

Brooke looked up from where she was kneeling on the ground and below with several knife wounds was a dead woman she had never seen before. In her own hand was a bloody knife.

Brooke tried to scramble up and away from the woman she had just killed but James Patrick March caught her from behind in a tight embrace. It was gentle and loving like nothing Btiojd had felt before. "You are perfect. Just what I have been waiting for".

__I come first and follow after  
end life, kill laughter.. __


	4. Chapter 4

"What did you do to me?" Brooke got up from the floor and tried to wipe the blood off of her but it was all over her clothes. She could feel it sticky on her skin. "what was in that drink?"

"Just something to loosen that tight grip you keep on your dark side my dear." March smiled, "Absinthe. My drink of choice but only for special occasions."

"You didn't drug me?"

"Of course not. I just removed those pesky inhibitions so you could see who you truly are."

"I'm not a monster." Brooke said as she continued to wipe the blood off her hands. "I didn't kill those people. I didn't... so much blood."

"Yes yes. Ms Evers will clean that up for you. She is good at that." March smiled happily but then walked over to her until Brook could once again smell his breath, "Did you enjoy it. Killing Margaret Booths?"

"That wasn't her." Brooke said angrily and then grabbed James March and flung him to the wall and put a knife against his throat, "Maybe I should just kill you and walk right out the door."

"Yes yes." March said happily not resisting at all, "Let your dark instincts out. I can show you so much. I created this hotel to be my playground. It can be yours."

"The hotel is over 100 years old."

"More like 50. I built this work of art to hide the bodies of my victims."

Brooke took several steps back but kept a firm grip on the knife in her hand, "That's not possible. Unless..." Brooke paused again for a long moment as she watched March who did not move an inch from where he was but instead stared happily at her, "A ghost."

March looked surprised for a second, "You've met some ghosts before?" March paused again thinking, "Camp Redwood."

Brooke knew she could tell James Patrick March the truth and he would understand but there was a part of her that still wanted to protect the ghosts in Camp Redwood. Plus they had promised to keep Ramirez contained there and the last thing she wanted was a man obsessed with darkness getting his hands on Richard Ramirez.

"It doesn't matter where." Brooke said finally, "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to tell me how it felt to kill the woman just now."

"I..."

"Can you feel her blood on your skin?" It's been so long since I could feel the blood of my victims all over my skin. Since I could smell their fear. Taste their horror." March smiled, "Yes I can still kill but to feel the life that I cannot do."

"I didn't want to..."

"But you did. And I can see how much you enjoyed taking the life from the fake Margaret. How you wanted to make her suffer. I can show you how."

"She's dead." Brooke said simply.

"They can all be Margaret Booth." March once again walked toward her and this time took her still blood soaked hand and led her into another room with a half naked woman lying on the table, "They can all be punished for your pain. They can all feel your anger. Your rage. Your Darkness."

Brooke Thompson walked over to the woman. She looked at her bound and gagged. She knew this was wrong. This was what Donna had warned her about. She could hear Donna. She could even hear Richard. It was an angel and a devil on her shoulders.

James didn't know it but Brooke hadn't killed Margaret Booth. She stared down at the woman and smiled "You could be Margaret Booth."

In the distance or maybe right behind her she heard James Patrick March giggle triumphant "Yes Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

Brooke woke up one morning and wondered how long she had been in the Cortez. Time had no meaning here. One day was just like the next. Even the souls that were alive in the hotel seemed to exist in a state of suspended animation. It was hard to know how much time if any had passed since she had first stumbled through the doors of the Cortez.

Brooke seemed to follow a strange routine like everyone else did. She would spend the morning with Liz, the afternoon with The Countess and the evening with March. Each part of her day was a little different. Liz would always be a strange mix of cheery and bitter. The Countess would talk about the past with a kind of sadness that Brooke both understood and didn't. She figured out pretty quickly that The Countess didn't love James Patrick March. As a matter of fact she barely tolerated him. However March seemed to love her or the idea of her at least. With March they would discuss anything and everything that the outside world would find depraved. It didn't matter what it was. March had a hunger for it all. He enjoyed killing people. He enjoyed watching Brooke kill people.

Then one day Brooke noticed Liz Taylor all nervous and excited. This was unusual. Although alive herself Liz Taylor rarely left the Cortez. She would spend her time either at the front desk or tending bar. When they would talk Liz would always have a fresh drink to hand her. It didn't matter how early in the morning or late at night.

"There you are Brooke."

Brooke smiled at Liz, "Is something going on?"

"Oh yes. It's Mr. March's annual devils night party. It's all anyone is talking about."

"Are you going?"

"Of course not. I don't fit the requirements."

"Requirement?"

"I'm not a dead serial killer." Liz handed Brooke a letter, "Although Mr. Match does occasionally invite special guest. He wanted me to make sure to hand this to you personally."

Brooke opened the letter, "It's actually engraved."

Liz chuckled, "Of course James Patrick March is a right gentleman. At least when he's not killing people."

Brooke still paused at how strange it was talking openly about what she still called "her darkness." However Brooke didn't know a permanent resident of the Cortez who didn't know that she had become March's newest project and was killing people for the pleasure of it. Brooke had killed three other women since the night she had dinner with March. Brooke couldn't explain why she did it. She couldn't explain why she enjoyed it. Most of all she couldn't explain why no one seemed to care.

Even The Countess and her strange group of children seemed to treat her far better then she had ever been treated before. Brooke knew from their talks that the Countess wasn't alive like Liz or a ghost like James Patrick March but Brooke still wasn't sure exactly what she was. Brooke knew enough not to ask. She also knew that there were other killers in the hotel and there was a reason a certain group had always been off limits.

Brooke knew enough not to ask.

"I am assuming the dinner is formal." Brooke smiled at her friend.

"Isn't everything he does?"

Brooke again smiled not sure how to take everyone being so nonchalant about everything going on in the Cortez. It wasn't some big horrible secret that only a few people knew. Most if not all the permanent residents knew about the ghosts and how they became ghost. Many had been killed by James Patrick March himself. And now there were at least five, two killed on the night of her dinner with him and three after, that she had killed. The building was in essence a double edged sword. It was the perfect place to dispose of your victims bodies but their souls would literally haunt you for eternity Some of the ghosts even became killers themselves and Brooke knew that without the protection of the Hotel and being on the "off limits" list everything would turn into that horrible night at Camp Redwood.

The night that turned her into a killer in the first place.

A double edged sword.

Brooke wondered when her life had become a double edged sword. She knew enough not to ask.


	6. Chapter 6

"That's not possible." Brooke backed away in horror from the man standing in front of her.

"I knew we'd see each other again, baby girl."

"That's not possible."

"My master was right about you little girl. I only wish I could see it myself.

"Go to Hell Ramirez."

Ramirez was about to respond when March walked down the hallway, "ahh my two favorite people. I heard you two know each other. I can't wait to hear your stories. But right now I have your party favor." March turned to Ramirez.

Brooke had actually been flattered to be invited to March's special Devil's Night party. She knew he invited dead serial killers but had never expected to see Richard Ramirez there. For one thing he wasn't technically dead. Unless something had changed he was being imprisoned by the ghosts at Camp Redwood. Now she felt something different. Something she hadn't felt since the first night she spent at Camp Redwood.

She felt fear.

Brooke fled back to the main lobby half expecting Ramirez and March to follow her. She needed to think. Did she even want to attend a party with that idiot Ramirez? And how did he even get here anyway?

"It's Devil's Night." Liz said simply. "The dead can leave their plane of existence for the night. Most don't know it. Some do. Some even leave here for the night. I know a man who got killed here that checks on his kids. Some reek havoc on the night. Mr. March throws a party"

"And invites serial killers?"

"Who else would he invite?"

Brooke headed back to her room but instead found The Countess and decided to ask her about her husband's yearly party. Brooke hadn't wanted to tell Liz about where Ramirez actually was and was even less sure if she should tell The Countess but without even saying anything Brooke realized the woman already knew.

"Stuck is stuck. The poor man can't leave whatever force is holding him except for Devil's night so James makes sure to procure him some toys to play with."

"Poor man" Brooke asked exasperated "He's a monster."

"So is James. So am I." The Countess paused, "From what I have been hearing you are becoming quite the vicious one yourself."

Brooke paused at that. Was it true? She hadn't really allowed herself to think about it. She had been living in the Cortez for months now. Nothing changing. Nothing growing but the darkness in her own heart. Brooke suddenly my felt stuck.

Stuck is Stuck.

—-

_ "This isn't who you are. There is evil inside you, yes. It's in us all. Dormant and waiting. I learned that from my father. It grows like a cancer but only if you feed it what it wants." _

Almost like a switch it was like a conscience to turned back on again. From off to on from I To O from No to Yes. It was like that little voice that she had been ignoring was screaming at her. The voice told her to do good things instead of bad to be a good person instead of a bad one it even sounded like Donna. A little voice in her head that had been silent for so long was now telling her to run to get out of the hotel. Why had a voice been silent for so long Brooke didn't know but it was loud banging in her ears and it was all she heard the dark little voice was gone maybe that's what Donna meant. The voice you fed was the voice you heard and right now the voice she was feeding was telling her to leave.

She thought maybe she could at least take Liz Taylor with her. They could run off. Find somewhere on the edge of the world to live. That had been the original plan with Donna. Go somewhere no one could ever find them. Maybe she could do that with Liz?

"What would I do outside the Cortez?"

"I don't know, live."

"I live here."

"This isn't living. You are as dead as everyone else." Brooke said after a second. "I can't stay here. I can't be who everyone wants me to be."

"Then you should go. And go now. Don't even get your stuff. Just walk right out the door. Don't look back."

Brooke closed her eyes for a second and tried not to cry. Liz was right. If she went back up to her room any number of things could stop her. She was no fool. She had been under the protection of James Patrick March because he wanted her to continue his greatest work of art. His greatest act of murder. If she outright refused and stayed in the hotel he wouldn't have any issue killing her or letting any number of monster kill her.

Brooke smiled at Liz and then quickly walked out the door. It was night time and the air was cool. Even cold. She didn't have a coat on but it didn't matter the cold felt good on her skin. The fresh air felt good on her skin.

"Happy New Year" Brooke felt herself get hugged from behind.

"Let the poor girl go Tony." Another man smiled at Brooke.

"New Year?" Brooke asked a little confused. Had time moved that quickly since Devil's night?

"Where have you been?" Brooke laughed it off but couldn't really come up with an answer but was happy when the man took pity on her. "It's a new decade baby. We are out of the 80s and into the 90s. 1990."

Brooke was stunned. 1990? Had she missed another year. So much time lost. In prison. On anger. In darkness. Donna has been right. Evil could only exist if you fed it. Brooke had been feeding her evil. Her darkness for far too long. But it was a new year. A new decade. It was time to feed something else.

Brooke smiled at the man and wished him a happy new year and headed on her way. It didn't matter where as long as it was away from the darkness and toward the light.


End file.
